


Get Your Honey’s Worth

by Celyan



Series: Works for 007 Fest 2019 [8]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, Honey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 20:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celyan/pseuds/Celyan
Summary: Upon stepping into his office, Q finds a jar of honey.





	Get Your Honey’s Worth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fluff Prompt Table’s prompt Honey. Sticky and sweet and silly. 
> 
> Thanks to Ki for the beta, and Lin & others in Slack for helping with the title.

There’s a jar of Tasmanian Leatherwood honey on his desk when Q enters his office early one morning. 

It’s a big jar, filled with enough honey to last him several months (if he takes it home, that is), and it most certainly wasn’t there when he left work the previous night. 

There is no card or message near it, either, but Q still has his suspicions about the culprit. It’s Bond, it always is. Other agents have the decency of either giving their gifts to him in person, or at least leaving a thoughtful note next to it, after all. 

Also, no other agent has been to Australia in months, so the answer really is rather obvious. 

Q takes a closer look at the jar of honey. He remembers reading about it before, and a quote from one website immediately comes to him: _If you are an avid Earl Grey tea drinker, chances are that you would also take to Leatherwood honey._ He shakes his head, amused; there’s no doubt that Bond is the one behind this gift. And as gifts go, it certainly isn’t the worst one there is. 

Q decides to take his new honey home and, should he remember it the next time he sees Bond, even offer him his thanks. He stashes the jar in his messenger bag and gets to work, temporarily forgetting all about it. 

*

The next time Q actively remembers the honey is when he’s back home for the evening and has just fed the cats. He's contemplating on his dinner options when suddenly there is a palm covering his eyes and another arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him against a firm chest. 

“Evening, 007,” he says, perfectly deadpan, used to Bond’s antics as he is. “Did you have fun in Australia?” 

”Certainly,” Bond replies, and he doesn’t even sound surprised at Q’s lack of reaction. ”But you should know that, seeing as you were in my ear most of the time.”

”Ah, but there were times when we were not connected,” Q reminds him. ”You could have had more fun during those times, and I’d have had no idea.” 

”Jealous, Quartermaster?” Bond inquires, and finally the palm covering Q’s eyes slides down, lightly over his mouth (Q valiantly resists the temptation to bite a finger when it lingers there a moment or two too long) and jaw, and ends up settling across his throat. 

”Hardly,” Q replies, tilting his head back against Bond’s shoulder at the man’s gentle insistence.

”Pity,” Bond says lightly. ”If you were, I could have made it up to you.” 

”With what?” Q simply has to ask, and he tilts his head to the side to be able to catch the man’s eyes, dislodging the palm around his throat as he does so and feeling it move to cradle the side of his neck, instead. ”Bringing back your full kit? Undamaged, even? I’m fairly convinced that none of you agents can manage that, no matter how hard you try.” 

Bond chuckles. ”For you, an agent could be convinced to make an effort.” 

”Could he, now?” 

”Perhaps, with the right incentive.” 

”Which would be…?” Q coaxes patiently. Dealing with the stubborn prats that they call the Double Os has certainly afforded him with a previously inconceivable amount of _that_. Besides, Bond does make a surprisingly nice shoulder to lean on. 

Bond just smiles and leans his head down, slow and steady, to press his lips against Q’s. The kiss is a familiar, sweet thing by now, something Q eagerly expects and desires (though he’d vehemently deny it if anyone was to make such an outrageous assumption about his person out loud), and so he kisses Bond back with enthusiasm. 

One kiss turns into two and three, though after that neither cares to count anymore. The kisses end up lasting far longer than their position would normally allow, and inevitably Q’s arms start to wander upward to wrap themselves around Bond’s shoulders, which helps him in turning around to properly face the man. Bond adjusts his position accordingly, one arm now snugly around Q’s back while the other has found its way to tangle in Q’s hair, and they could very well have continued thusly for a lot longer if it wasn’t for one thing: Q’s cats, Sekhmet and Hazel, coming to demand their share of the cuddles. 

Reluctantly, Q pulls away from Bond’s lips and leans down to pet his kitties. Bond follows his example, and for a while they focus only on making sure that neither cat feels left out. Afterwards, when Sekhmet wanders off (presumably somewhere high enough to be able to survey his kingdom in a sufficiently regal manner) and Hazel decides that she absolutely needs a nap, Bond gets back to their previous topic of conversation. 

”Have you already tasted the honey?” he asks, clearly curious. 

”Not yet, I only got back maybe thirty minutes ago,” Q points out quite sensibly. ”I wanted to sort out dinner and then make some tea to go with it, but I didn’t have the time before a certain Double O decided to distract me.” 

”In that case, shall I make up for it by helping you with that?” Bond offers, eyes glinting mischievously. 

”I’m listening,” Q says, so Bond explains. 

*

Bond’s idea, such as it is, sees Q flat on his back on his bed, nude to the waist and with Bond half leaning over him. He dips the honey dipper into the now opened jar on the bedside table and uses it to drizzle honey on Q’s chest. It feels sticky and even tickles a bit, but Q can barely focus on the sensations as he holds his breath and waits for Bond to put the dipper away. 

The first touch of Bond’s tongue on his skin makes him gasp, and the subsequent ones make it harder and harder for him to focus on anything but what the agent is doing to him. And when Bond pulls his pants down to uncover more skin for his sticky fingers to play with, Q can only shudder and wait for the sweet release.

*

”You know, I had to make a detour to get you that honey,” Bond says later, while Q’s still pliant in his arms and they’re both pleasantly sated and sticky from their recent activities. 

”Was it worth it?” Q asks drowsily. 

”Certainly.”

”Good. But I’m still hungry.”


End file.
